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By Chris Bahnsen| January 12, 2015
From the riverbank I watch a great white egret on jointed stilts near a patch of tall reeds, calm as the shallows where it stands. My father would come here the way other people come to morning mass, this river his wide altar. Explosive, the egretâ€™s yellow beak spears through its own reflection then bursts skyward throwing diamond droplets.